


Neighborhood Watch

by FreshBrains



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Dialogue Heavy, Domestic, Gen, Humor, M/M, Marvel POC Characters Fanworks Exchange, Mother-Daughter Relationship, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-10 01:47:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4372445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye is starting to suspect something is up with her next-door neighbors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neighborhood Watch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ItsLexDuh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsLexDuh/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy! So I really liked the idea of our spy-dads in an AU living the domestic life and still inspiring fear in all who trespass, but I felt I needed a child’s POV to make it credible, and Skye worked perfectly. She wasn’t listed in her favorite characters, but I hope that’s alright. She's probably fourteen or fifteen in this.
> 
> Mentioned pairings/characters who don't appear: Bucky/Steve, Claire/Matt, Melinda/Maria, Loki, Clint, Natasha, Gamora, and Nebula.

Skye is starting to suspect something is up with her next-door neighbors.

So, _yeah_ , she’s been trying the whole “be nice and accepting of others” thing, but it sort of sucks, especially when she’s living next to two assassins. Or aliens. She’s juggling between the two. She’s seen them doing a lot of normal-person stuff, like drink coffee on the porch and wash dishes through the kitchen window and watch _Dateline_ after dinner, but the thinks those might be the sort of things assassins or aliens learn before they live among humans.

Melinda doesn’t buy it. She rarely does.

“But you don’t _see_ them like I do,” Skye argues as she clears the dinner dishes, ignoring her foster mother’s exaggerated eye-roll. “They’re too perfect. And did you see Mr. Fury’s _biceps_? And I mean, _Fury_? What kind of name is that?”

“I think you need a hobby, kid,” Melinda says, tugging on Skye’s ponytail. “One that doesn’t involve hacked forums about government spies.”

 _I thought I cleared my history_ , Skye thought, sparing Melinda a guilty glance. “They don’t come off as at least a _little_ bit suspicious? What about Mr. Coulson? He wears suits every day and he has a _gun_.” Skye grabs an ice cream sandwich from the freezer, pauses, and grabs another one for Melinda. They always sit on the porch and talk about their days after dinner, and even if Melinda is annoyed at her, she’s not going to pass up prime mom-chat and neighbor-spying.

“ _I_ have a gun,” Melinda says, motioning towards her gun belt hung above the breakfast nook—sans bullets, of course. She keeps those in her leather jacket pockets like candy. “Am I an assassin?”

“No consensus yet,” Skye grumbles, taking a bite of her ice cream. They filter onto the porch and sit down on the top step. “You’re a cop. You wear a badge and everything. But they…they wear _cardigans_. And some cute guy with a hearing aid and a pretty ginger always visit them.” She suspects they’re also assassins or spies—birds of a secret feather flock together.

Melinda laughs, nudging Skye in the shoulder. She unwraps her ice cream slowly, an eye trained on the house next to them. Their porch wrapped around and had a front and side door, and from the side door stairs, they could see right into the other house’s patio door. “Okay, I’ll bite. Maybe they _are_ assassins. So who’s their target?”

Skye grins. Melinda plays it cool, but she can be fun as hell when she lets the veneer crack. “Matt and Claire from across the street.”

Melinda shakes her head. “Matt’s the nicest guy in the world, and Claire’s a _nurse_. Unless they’re deep undercover they aren’t viable.” She takes a bite of her ice cream, eyes narrowed, sliding into full cop mode.

“Fine, then,” Skye says, and scans the quiet suburban neighborhood. It’s a late fall night, the air slowly cooling as autumn deepened, and kids were being tucked into bed as parents watched TV. “What about Mr. Barnes and Captain Rogers? They’re sort of tough and scary looking, if you look past Mr. Barnes’ man-bun.”

Melinda raises an eyebrow. “You’re best guess includes a disabled veteran and a decorated war hero?”

“ _Gay_ veteran war heroes, no less” Skye says solemnly. “There’s sure a lot of virtue in this neighborhood.”

Melinda snorts. “Not everyone. I have my eye on that shifty Swedish dude down the street, the one with the long, greasy hair.”

“I thought he was Norwegian,” Skye muses. “Good pick. Though the cranky sisters across from, the ones who always wear blue and green—they’re sort of weird, too.”

“They might just be aliens,” Melinda says, and Skye goes wide-eyed for a second before seeing Melinda’s sly smile.

She slaps Melinda on the leg. “Rude,” she says, but can’t help but laugh. Before she can say anything else, the neighbors’ screen door slides open and Mr. Fury comes out. He’s a tall man, built but wiry, looking to be in his late fifties or early sixties—Skye’s always been bad with age. He also has an eye patch, something Skye figures came from an assassination gone wrong. Like, what else would it be?

His partner, Mr. Coulson, follows, bare-footed in jeans and a tee shirt, looking out of place without his daily suit. He looks a little younger but there’s an undeniable age in his features—Skye thinks it’s a good look for an assassin. He’s seen shit. He’s been places.

“Having a good evening, Ms. May?” Mr. Fury’s voice is deep and polite. He reminds Skye of a grumpy English teacher. “Skye?”

Skye nods furiously, not ready to interact with the subjects. Melinda sighs and waves. “Hey, you two. Nice night out.”

Mr. Coulson winds an arm around Mr. Fury’s waist, their bodies close and intimate. Skye deflates a little. She was expecting a distance, a _tell_ , something to show they were just bluffing, covering for something bigger than the two of them. But they look like they’re happy, like Melinda and Maria look when Maria comes over after her shift at the city hall and Melinda rubs her shoulders.

“How’s the new school, Skye?” Mr. Coulson is a nice man, quiet and unassuming. He makes it seem like he’s actually interested, something Skye’s not used to from adults who weren’t Melinda.

“Fine,” Skye says politely. “Not expelled yet.”

“And thank god for that,” Melinda says dryly. “Even though that Fitz kid is going to blow all of them up one of these days.”

“To be young again,” Mr. Fury says, turning to press his face against the side of Mr. Coulson’s head, whispering something only they can hear, something that makes Mr. Coulson hide a laugh. They look way too in love, and Skye feels all her schemes fade away.

After they go inside and Skye starts in on her homework at the kitchen table, Melinda going over cases in her bedroom, she glances outside again at the neighbors’ house. The windows are dark, all the lights off—they’re early-to-bed types.

“This neighborhood is _so_ boring,” she says, and picks up her phone to text Jemma about their chemistry assignment.


End file.
